


A Picture/Message

by fuusunshine



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mirrors, Porn With Plot, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, jeanmarco, stupid ass bus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 07:47:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1183723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuusunshine/pseuds/fuusunshine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Valentine's Day is just another day right?  Then why is Marco upset?  Did Jean really forget?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Picture/Message

**Author's Note:**

> Just some fun happy happy smut for Valentine's Day of course with Jean and Marco. This is by far the most, ummm dirty thing I've written.
> 
> You can visit me, I get lonely.  
> fuusunshine.tumblr.com  
> fuusunshine.deviantart.com

Marco sighed solemnly, toying with the paper coffee cup in his hands.  The cold winter sun was slinking down over the horizon as he sat alone staring out the window of the cafe.  At a nearby table a young couple giggled quietly, their fingers interlaced resting beside their untouched beverages.  The bell on the door tinkled as an elderly couple walked in, the man gently placing his hand on the small of his wife's back and lovingly escorted her to a small table.  Red and pink paper hearts stuck to the windows and hung on string from the ceiling, Marco wanted to rip them up into tiny pieces and light them on fire.

 

He was probably overreacting, it was just like any other day but disappointment sat like lead in his stomach.  Marco hadn't seen or even spoken to Jean since yesterday morning.  He did send him a text earlier but received no response.  He had hoped that maybe they would go out for dinner, or a movie, or even just sit in front of the TV, do something together but here he was sitting alone sipping lukewarm coffee as he watched happy, sappy sweet couples come and go.  His disappointment was slowly edging towards anger and he silently admonished himself.  It was just a silly day that the greeting card companies used to turn a profit but goddammit it was Valentine's day.

 He sat staring blankly out the window as the light of day dwindled, reluctant to venture home to an empty apartment.  His phone vibrated from deep within his pocket and he raised a brow not moving.  He turned to look at the couples around him once more and dug for his phone.

  **A Picture/Message from Jean**

 It was a selfie.  Green T-shirt, messy hair and that arrogant, cocky grin that Marco found both amusing and incredibly sexy.  He tried hard but he could not stop the smile from spreading across his lips.

  **Marco: Hey**

 Marco set his phone down on the table trying to decide if he was actually angry or not but before, he could make up his mind he received another message.

  **A Picture/Message from Jean**

Another selfie.  Jean's head was tilted down and his whiskey colored eyes looked up through thick lashes.  His teeth dug in gently on his bottom lip.

 Marco stared at the image, butterflies dancing inside wondering what Jean was doing.

  **Marco: Jean?**

This time he didn't put his phone down, instead he stared at his lock screen.  Minutes passed in an eternity.

  **A Picture/Message from Jean**

Jean's face was frozen in a wink, his mouth slightly open, and his tongue running over his teeth.

 Now that was plainly a suggestive image and Marco suppressed a small shudder.

  **Marco:  Very nice Jean but what are you doing?**

He absentmindedly took a sip of his coffee and grimaced.  It had gone cold and tasted putrid.  A reply came very quickly.

  **A Picture/Message from Jean**

It was a picture of a very boring wood door with the number 7 on it.  In fact, it was Marco's very boring wood door.  Another text came in before he even had time to reply.

  **A Picture/Message from Jean**

Jean was holding the door open, standing on the threshold with a very mischievous smirk adorning his features.

 Jean was letting himself into Marco's apartment.  That was not unusual, what was strange was that he was taking pictures of it.

  **Marco: You're at my place?**

**Jean:  Mhmm**

 "Well this is interesting."  Marco mumbled to himself before replying to Jean.

  **Marco: Ok I give up what is going on.**

Marco was intrigued but still a little confused.

  **A Picture/Message from Jean**

Jean was now in Marco's bedroom, shirtless, pinching at one of his own nipples with his eyes closed.  The dim lighting of the small bedside lamp glowing like a candle.

 Marco shifted in his seat and swallowed hard.  He licked his lips and typed out a hasty reply.

  **Marco:  On my way**

It was a twenty-minute bus ride from the small coffee shop to Marco's apartment and he tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for the slowest bus in the history of public transit.  His phone vibrated again in his pocket.

  **A Picture/Message from Jean**

This time the shot was of Jean's waistline.  His firm stomach, navel and line of dark hair that reached down into his undone jeans.  His belt hung loose and his zipper was down.  His boxers pulled tight over the bulge straining to get out.

 Marco's dick twitched in it's confines as the bus came to a stop in front of him.  He quickly boarded and sat down thankful that it was almost empty.  It would be faster with fewer commuters.

  **Marco: That’s hot**

Marco continued to gaze at the blank screen of his phone, he only looked up when the bus came to a stop and the doors opened.  So many people.  The almost empty vehicle was now jammed pack.  An older woman slid past him to take the window seat and several others stood holding on as the bus lurched forward once again.  His phone vibrated.  Taking care to not to expose the contents of his latest message, he peered at it stealthily.

  **A Picture/Message from Jean**

Jean had taken this picture in the reflection of the large mirror upon Marco's dresser that was placed near the foot of the bed.  He was void of all clothing, leaning up against the headboard with pillows tucked behind him.  The arm not holding his phone was crooked behind his head, his cock lay just below his bellybutton hard and inviting.

 Marco squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, his jeans becoming painfully tight.

  **Marco:  I'm on a bus full of people. You're killing me.**

**Jean: Watch**

Marco cold feel the back of his T-shirt sticking to his skin as his temperature rose despite the cold February day.  The bus rolled to a slow stop at every block, picking up more people as others left.  He had to shift in his seat every few moments, to keep his erection hidden and himself comfortable.

  **A Picture/Message from Jean**

It was a close up of a small bottle.  The label clearly readable.  Two hearts intertwined with one another and below the picture the words 'Chocolate Flavored'.

  **A Picture/Message from Jean**

His palm was up turned with a tiny puddle of oil pooling in the center.

 Marco ran his hand through his hair nervously, excited and dreading the next message.  The bus was crowded making him feel uncomfortable in his aroused state.

  **A Picture/Message from Jean**

Jean's hand gripped his now slicked up cock, the oil glistening in the lamp light.

  **Marco: Oh god**

 There were only two more stops then Marco could get off this retched bus. He was at his limit.  He needed to be home, needed to touch Jean, needed to satisfy every debauched fantasy he had ever had.

  **A Picture/Message from Jean**

Jean's eyes had taken on a darker tone as he stared back at Marco from the picture.  His index and middle fingers deep in his mouth, cheeks hollowed as he sucked the flavored oil off them.

 Marco released a small, quiet, pent up moan that thankfully was drowned out by the engines of the bus.  His cheeks were hot, his palms were clammy and his dick was painfully hard.

  **A Picture/Message from Jean**

Jean used the mirror once again to capture his reflection.  He leaned back on a pile of pillows.  Both legs pulled up high and spread wide apart.  His long finger buried knuckle deep inside him. 

 Marco bolted off the bus as soon as the doors opened at his stop and ran up to his building.  He fumbled with his keys and dropped them twice before opening the main door.  He ran up the stairs two at a time then down his hall sliding to a halt outside his door.  With shaking hands, he unlocked it.  As soon as it clicked closed behind him he heard a low pleasurable moan echo out form his bedroom.  He fumbled out of his boots loosing his socks in the process and undid the button and zipper of his jeans.  He sighed contentedly at the partial relief.  With quick strides, he made his way to the bedroom, stubbing his toe on a chair before he made it to the open door.

 Taking a few steps in he stopped to admire the site before him.  Jean still leaned on the pillows with his thighs pushed as far apart as he could manage.  His phone lay discarded on the bed beside him as he fucked himself sweetly on two of his fingers.  His eyes were closed, breathing heavy and a deep guttural moan issuing forth every so often.  Marco's cock throbbed relentlessly but he simply watched. 

 Jean's eyes opened and immediately locked with Marco's.  A wicked grin spread across his face as he withdrew his fingers.  Shifting he crawled along the bed on his hands and knees to the corner closest to where Marco stood.

 "Come here."  He purred in a whisper.

 Marco obliged quickly and closed the distance.  He watched as Jean moved off the bed and stood directly in front of him, crashing their mouths together in desperation.  Tongues, lips, teeth all colliding smearing wetness across their faces before Jean pulled away leaving the other breathless.  Marco noted the hint of chocolate still lingering on Jean's lips.  Long nimble fingers pulled Marco's t-shirt off and threw it into the far corner of the room then slid his jeans down over his hips, then thighs, until they pooled around his ankles.  Marco unceremoniously kicked them off.  In one swift tug Jean also relieved him of is boxers, erection bouncing free.  Marco sighed as the air hit his over heated skin.

 Jean ran his tongue briefly over his jaw line before falling to his knees.  Marco closed his eyes in anticipation.

 "No, watch."  Jean hissed

 He opened his eyes though the lids felt heavy and watched as strong fingers wrapped tightly around him.  Two long slow strokes forced a needy moan out of his throat and his entire body shuddered.  He wanted to bend Jean over any surface that was available and fuck him good and hard but that thought was interrupted when a hot wet tongue licked him from base to tip and quickly engulfed his head.  Jean looked up at him, eyes sharp and mouth full of cock.  That image would be forever burned into his memories and filed under intense jack off material.

 Jean swirled his tongue as he began slowly inching down Marco's shaft, pushing forward till it hit his throat.  With and audible gulp Jean swallowed.

 "Aah, ohh god Jean."

 Pulling back slightly Jean hollowed his cheeks and proceeded to move his mouth back and forth over the throbbing dick.  Marco stared transfixed as Jean worked him.  His legs were beginning to shake and he unconsciously tangled his fingers in the dirty blonde locks below, pulling roughly at them.  Jean hummed against him at the rough treatment sending shocks along his nerves.

 The warm mouth encasing his cock was removed far to quickly for Marco's liking but when he saw him reach behind and grab the small bottle of oil off the bed all was forgiven.. Jean still on his knees held the bottle up and drizzled the oil abundantly on Marco's hardness then with both hands rubbed and smeared it.  Whiskey eyes did not once look away from Marco's soft browns. 

 The scene playing out before him was the thing fantasies are made of.  Jean stood, placing a small chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth and crawled back up onto the tussled bed.  He positioned himself on all fours, head towards the end of the bed on a diagonal angle.  He turned his head to look back at Marco, biting his lower lip and pushing his ass out invitingly. 

 Marco jumped into action.  Kneeling behind him, he lovingly stroked the skin of Jean's cheeks.  He ran a finger down the center and slid it in the worked over entrance.  Jean had already done a good job of readying himself and Marco found no resistance.  He slid in a second and then a third finger and licked his lips when Jean began to push back wantonly on them.  His dick twitched repeatedly and he could wait no longer.  Retracting his fingers, he pushed his oil-slicked cock deep into the tight heat easily.  Jean moaned and gripped the disheveled sheets tightly in his fists.  Marco wanted to move slowly, to savor this but the arch in Jean's back and the raise of his hips did little to encourage his self-control.  He hit him hard and fast, digging his fingers harshly into the flesh of the hips before him.  He fucked him good, he fucked him hard, and he reveled in the sensations of Jean's tight ass wrapped around him.

 "Look."  Jean panted from beneath him.

 Marco followed the angle of Jean's head and stared into the mirror.  The way they were positioned on the bed gave him an exquisite view of the scene.  He could see the way his cock slid in and out of Jean, glistening with oil.  He could see the way his muscles contracted with every thrust but most amazingly, he could see Jean's face.  His eyelids low over his beautiful eyes, lips parted, a tiny trail of drool dripping from the corner of his mouth.  He watched Jean's features twist and contort in ecstasy then he would watch as his cock pounded into that perfect ass mercilessly, then back to Jean's features.  Jean's tongue lolled haphazardly in a pleasure-fueled delirium and Marco was lost.

 "God M-Marco... look what y-you d-do to me."

 Marco leaned over the body below him and wrapped a strong arm around grasping Jean's cock.  He thrust harder, stroking Jean in rhythm to his movement, never taking his eyes off the mirror.  Jean was moaning, small mewls, grunts, incoherent mumblings and the sound was the most fucking beautiful song Marco had ever heard.  With a long drawn out groan Jean released coating Marco's hand in wet warmth.  Marco's movements stuttered as his cock was clamped tightly down on, ripping his orgasm out of him violently.

 They remained like that for a moment before Jean's arms gave out on him and they tumbled into a heap of sweaty, tired limbs.  Marco had no intension of moving out of the tangle they had fallen in.  He lazily made circles with his thumb over Jean's arm and sighed contentedly.  Jean lifted his head slightly in order to look more fully into Marco's eyes and smiled tiredly.

 "Happy Valentine's Day."


End file.
